


Notes (And Drinks) On A Scandal

by singalellaby



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:51:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singalellaby/pseuds/singalellaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of <i>course</i> it’s Tony’s idea. Because who else amongst them would take an aggressive, violating, inconvenient invasion of privacy and turn it into a drinking game? The Avengers deal with their increased media coverage the only way they know how.</p><p>Written for the 2013 MediaAvengers Mini-Bang and featuring art by the lovely and talented Kai!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Notes (And Drinks) On A Scandal

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Artwork for Notes (And Drinks) On A Scandal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097502) by [kkkkai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkkkai/pseuds/kkkkai). 



> This turned into me trying to use as many of Kim's amazing media creations as possible in the space of one story. Kai's amazing artwork can be found [here!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1097502)

It’s Tony’s idea.

Of _course_ it’s Tony’s idea. Because who else amongst them would take an aggressive, violating, inconvenient invasion of privacy and turn it into a drinking game? Well, Thor might have. Drinking games and Asgardians apparently go together like bacon, lettuce and tomatoes. Give him an inch and he’ll delightedly run a merry-making mile with it, so part of the trouble was that as soon as Tony came up with the idea then he automatically had a fervent supporter.

So Tony suggests it and Thor endorses it and, somehow, that means that Steve is spending his Friday night in front of a dizzying number of alcohol bottles and J.A.R.V.I.S.’ beyond state of the art abilities being used to fill the air around them with blown-up tabloid headlines.

(This was not what he had envisaged when Commander Fury had first pitched the ideas of the Avengers to him.)

For the past half hour Tony has been trying to explain the extremely complicated scoring system he and Bruce spent the afternoon designing (it’s been a slow week for science and superhuman crime both apparently) but Steve wrinkled his nose at the point where the first equation crept into it and is now rather grateful that Natasha is interjecting with the summary for people who are happy with an activity that doesn’t require a doctorate-level educational background to enjoy.

“Drink if the headline’s a lie, drink double if they actually got something right, finish whatever’s left in your glass if you try to argue that anything was taken out of context,” she says succinctly, cutting calmly across Tony’s explanation.

Beside her Clint snorts and cracks open his beer. “So, basically, we’re drinking any time an article on us comes up, regardless of content?”

“Guess you won’t be needing that beer at all then, Barton,” Tony quips from the opposite couch and of course that turns into them pelting each other with rolled up napkins and pretzels while Bruce holds up a pillow to avoid being caught in the crossfire, but then luck would have it that the first article that pops up after J.A.R.V.I.S. is asked to start shuffling them _is_ actually Clint-centric. He looks triumphant for all of a few seconds before the headline actually sinks in and then he does a very good impression of a cat caught doing something inelegant, defensive and challenging at the same time.

“False, _obviously_ ,” he mutters, drinking his beer and scowling at the smiling face of the woman who claims that he has fathered her child. “You talk to one chick at one party and—shut up, Stark, it was _your_ party so this one’s definitely your fault, why the hell are you putting baby starlets on the guest list?”

“Why are you letting them corner you in the first place?” Tony shoots back once he’s managed to stop cackling, but – counter arguments aside – he does still take an obliging swig of his scotch.

In the name of fairness Steve nudges Natasha’s foot with his and then gestures to the bottom of the magazine cover with an apologetic (well, not that apologetic, since the very idea of her losing her cool over Clint’s fake fatherhood is laughable) smile, while Tony looks proud, probably because he thinks this somehow means he’s brought Steve over to the dark side. If only he knew quite how many hours the Commandos had made a little less tedious by passing a flask around and making a game out of story telling. “How many drinks for your ‘rage’ then?” he asks.

She, of course, just smiles at him and beatifically takes one small sip of her drink. Of course, what’s in her glass could probably take down an elephant. Steve cannot see even a single word he recognises on the worryingly austere bottle that literally no one else is touching and he doesn’t know which drink he’s more suspicious of, her mystery vodka or the firkin of mead that Thor has brought all the way from Asgard specifically for this evening. It smells _wonderful_ , like Christmas and Midsummer all at once, but there are some things he isn’t willing to try, even with the Serum. He’s happy with beer. So is Clint, while Tony’s drinking scotch he claims is nearly as old as Steve (which he doubts) and no one argued too much with Bruce sticking to something non-alcoholic. Though Natasha did put a miniature umbrella in it for appearances.

It’s not as if this is actually about getting drunk – out of the six of them, one is an alien, two are physiologically enhanced and one is Natasha, which Clint claims is cheating and she has yet to contest. And it’s not as if either Tony or Clint are likely to fall down due to these fairly low amounts and…it’s not the point anyway. There are many points. Like helping Clint laugh off media attention as much as he can rather than be frustrated about it. Or making Thor a little less lonely for the feasting halls of Asgard and the family he has to part from during his time on Earth. Or, simply, the reaffirmation of the notion that the world does not actually have to be in dire peril for them to enjoy each other’s company.

Steve had found a family during wartime, and he had far too quickly lost them. Now – in another time and another war – he’s found a different family.

He’s not going to stop quietly marvelling over that for a while yet.

…Okay, fine, so maybe it’s a _dysfunctional_ family he mentally corrects as he watches Clint absently start constructing a tower out of as many drink receptacles as he can lay his hands on. And does Natasha really have to be checking on the wiring in one of her Widow’s Bite in the lounge? It’s not as if _he_ insists on polishing his shield in plain view. No, it’s neatly propped up beside his armchair and out of the way so as not to—nope, he’s definitely as bad as the rest of them. At least he can be grateful that they’ve successfully pried Tony out of all the various bits and pieces that make up the Iron Man suit, otherwise the thoughtless gesture of his hand that accompanies his request for J.A.R.V.I.S. to move onto the next article and also happens to smack Bruce in the nose could have been a lot more dangerous.

“Attacked by Iron Man,” he grouses fondly as he puts all of an extra few inches between himself and Tony on their couch. “ _That_ should be the headline.”

It isn’t. Instead it’s one proclaiming Tony to be the ‘sexiest man alive’ and the rest of them groan simultaneously, then do so again but even louder when he looks far too smug and very deliberately takes two long swigs.

“It’s from 2009!” Clint protests.

“One, it’s People magazine, which is totally a valid source,” Tony says, lacing his fingers behind his head and stretching out in a proud fashion. “And, two, it’s all in the phrasing – not sexiest man of the year, sexiest man _alive_. Unless all of you are freakishly fast-growing test tube babies—” (This, Steve thinks resignedly, is not actually an impossibility given the products of over-ambitious and unethical science they have come up against in the past year and a half.) “—or zombies that clean up nice, you all had your chance to take that title from me.”

“Not a man,” Natasha says.

“Not a mortal,” Thor says.

“Not someone who was awake in 2009,” Steve says.

“I think I’d prefer it if you _were_ zombies,” Tony says with great dignity, something that is promptly ruined by Thor laughing and amiably punching him in the shoulder, which of course basically ends up with him in Bruce’s lap. Steve can’t tell whether the scientist’s expression is long-suffering or affectionate. Knowing those two, it could easily be both.

“The next one if you would, J.A.R.V.I.S., thank you very much,” Steve says whilst looking up at some vague point in the ceiling, though Tony has told him over and over that that’s not _actually_ where the A.I. is located. To some degree Steve knows that, but he likes making a point of seeking even token ‘eye contact’.

“You’re welcome, Captain Rogers,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says in his British, urbane way. The politeness is a the façade covering a bitter betrayal because Steve is immediately left wincing at a spread that has already been much dissected and that upsets him much more than the speculations about his love life or the uncomfortable fascination people seem to have with his butt because—.

Clint hoots with delight. “It’s the one where the outraged mothers say that Steve’s suit is ‘an affront to common decency’.” He completely ignores Steve’s attempts at a quelling frown because, _really_ , it’s not that funny, and rolls around on the couch in laughter.

“I’m just glad that it’s not my uniform they’re complaining about for once,” Natasha says dryly.

Bruce – rather unfairly for a man who has busted out of more pairs of pants than Steve has owned in his life – looks apologetically amused. “It is rather form-fitting…”

“I have on numerous occasions offered you the garb of a warrior crafted by Asgard’s finest smiths,” Thor points out. “I think you will find them fine in both form and function.” _He_ can’t talk either because he’s wearing leather pants _right now_. Steve’s just in jeans for heaven’s sake!

“I didn’t have much say in the outfit’s design _either_ time!” Steve protests. Clint’s basically paralysed with giggles by now and Tony’s not much better. He sighs aggrievedly. “So how many drinks do I take? Once because I’m clearly not trying to be a bad influence or twice because it’s true that some people _think_ I am?”

“Twice, since you don’t wear a helmet when you’re on your bike and that’s a Bad Message for the children,” Tony says.

“That was just that one time!” Steve replies, stung. “And I thought it was fine because of the Serum. I didn’t know about helmet laws at the time so it was entirely—.”

“Out of context?” Natasha says archly and raises an eyebrow all of a millimetre of so, just _daring_ Steve to argue with her.

Rather wisely, Steve finishes his beer without any more protest and opens up a new one.

Like most of Tony’s ideas, this one turns out to be awful and entertaining in equal quantities. The entire evening nearly gets sucked into a black hole of technobabble when the article reporting on Bruce’s appearance at the event advocating attempts to clean up New York’s water and Tony, whose attitude towards relationships seems to amount to giant rabbits and grand gestures centred around revolutionary technology according to Pepper and Bruce, starts pitching ideas at the group at large (but mainly Bruce). Luckily, he gets distracted by the one implying that he and Clint are somehow having a secret affair. Sly innuendo and lots of outrageous eyebrow motions and the inevitable clashing opinions about who would be on top aren’t that much preferable to incomprehensible science talk, but they’re still an improvement, albeit a small one.

The articles only reaffirm Steve’s depressing conclusion that the media seems more concerned with the Avengers’ private lives than the good that they actually do. _Especially_ the magazine he has already come to hate about as much as Hydra and anonymous comments on the internet, the National Enquirer. He supposes, grudgingly, that the newspapers already have their more well publicised events more thoroughly covered, but the libel is about as bad as some of the more horrific propaganda pieces during the war.

“Just how many of us are you meant to be involved with?” he asks plaintively when the one about him and _Tony_ gets dug up, the one that uses that ridiculous ‘frenemies’ word in the headline. On the cover even! Where the media managed to find the information about the brief period where he and Tony had even had the time to be vaguely hostile towards each other before they’d smoothed things out is beyond him. 

“All of the wrong ones apparently,” Bruce says placidly.

Tony makes kissy faces at him and then just shrugs unconcernedly. “Spend as much time in the public eye as I have over the years and the gossip mags will have you paired up with pretty much everyone.”

“Yes, because you _never_ gave them any ammunition on that front or anything,” Clint drawls.

“Remind me how many stories there are out there about you being Natasha’s bitch boy?” Tony shoots back.

“Him being my bitch has nothing to do with whether we’re dating or not.” Natasha interjects before Clint can reply and just eyes Steve’s and Tony’s drinks with haughty significance. “Drink, you two. We’ve still got plenty of these to go.”

Not all of the results J.A.R.V.I.S. pulls up are awful ones. Thor actually _loves_ the History Channel DVD on Asgardians, factual inaccuracies and all.

“What warrior does not embellish tales of his own exploits?” he asks blithely after taking a long swig from his tankard that still ends up meaning the same thing as draining it. “And our skalds have long since taken liberties with the sere facts of a story to better quicken the blood of their listeners. Sing on, I say! Your people deserve to hear more of my shining realm and the adventures of its denizens.”

Having seen the same television channel’s version of _his_ history, Steve is less inclined to be quite so forgiving. In the context of the title, ‘Captain America’s Untold Story’ might as well be synonymous with ‘Captain America’s Entirely Fictitious and Kind of Embarrassing Story’. It’s as bad as the comics they released, but at least Bucky wasn’t made a stripling boy in this one.

Natasha laughs when her front cover for Interview comes up and takes two sips of her drink while Clint complains about how useless her answers to his questions were and contests the ‘truth’ to which she is drinking. In contrast, Bruce just looks pained when the ridiculous article accusing him of being a drug addict is next to be drawn.

“Not that I didn’t try the marijuana route in the early days when I was that much more desperate for even a chemical calm,” he says as he takes a single defiant drink, “but this is a bit much.” He pauses and squints at the projected, high-definition image of the cover floating in the middle of them. “…is my hair really that scruffy?”

(Everyone pauses that little bit too long and he sighs dejectedly.)

“At least they’re not photographing you coming out of the gym and saying you’re more attractive after spending the day killing Chitauri.” Natasha’s voice sounds fairly indifferent, but she’s wearing the gentle, almost sympathetic expression that she seems to save exclusively for Bruce. They spend a lot of time cooking curry together and seeing who can do the best impression of a human pretzel, which is a whole lot less directly combative than her joint hobbies with the rest of them, so maybe it’s not unexpected.

Clint snorts. “The one where they said you were so pale I could use you as a glowstick?” Natasha nods and he rolls his eyes. “God, I’m amazed no flabby blogger bodies have turned up in the Hudson yet.”

She looks more amused than anything else, but Steve feels slightly sick. Just…the way that the media talks about women these days, victimising and demonising them in equal measures. He’s constantly being told that he comes from a time where women were repressed, but there’s something so very vicious and hateful about the expectations women these days are held up to (and the responses when they ‘fail’ to meet them) that leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth and the notion that maybe the world isn’t as progressive as it thinks it is. “How else are you supposed to look after a work out?” he asks, appalled. “What do they expect you to wear to the gym, your best clothes and your going out make up?”

Natasha looks at him with her most neutral impression, the one she wears whenever villains spit explicit and derogatory curses at her, and simply gives the tiniest of shrugs. “Who knows?”

Of all of them, she seems to handle the media coverage the best. Thor usually gives them a lot of leeway, but gets seriously angry at any of the stories implying he is in any way unfaithful to Jane. Unfortunately, those make up a depressing percentage of the spreads on him and are capable of putting him in a black mood for hours, ones that consist of a lot of muttering and brooding on the highest point of the Avengers Tower.

Bruce, like Steve, suffers through it because he knows there’s no real way of making it go away. Steve at least has had some experience with embarrassing stories and pieces of propaganda based around the image he wears for his country, but he also thinks that Bruce has some of the best articles, the ones that highlight his intellect, his scientific ethos, his quiet, uphill battle to be seen for his brain and not his (occasional, green) brawn. 

And if Tony actually seems to enjoy the media attention (and is definitely not above pandering to it) then Clint definitely hates it. Either he’s moody about not getting as much coverage as the rest of them or is then swinging to the opposite end of the spectrum by obviously _hating_ having eyes on him when he’s used to being the watcher, not the one watched.

The sad fact of the matter is that whatever they do, good or bad, the media always has an opinion on it. Also good or bad. Gone are the days of Steve’s work being done oceans away from the people who read the stories about him. Now people can look him up on their phones or over-analyse every soundbite he gives in interviews and tear his character apart from the safety of their own homes. They don’t need to meet him to have an _opinion_ of him. And Steve…Steve’s all for the freedom of the press. He’s still endlessly enchanted by how _easy_ it is to learn these days, to look up any fact you feel like without having to go to a library.

But, sometimes, the ‘facts’ are ridiculous.

In spite of the disgustingly predictable slant of the article (because Steve has already learned that the easiest thing a magazine can do to cause a scandal is accuse a woman of being loose) Natasha smirks at the article that calls her a man-eater.

“That’s surprisingly clever for the Enquirer,” she says, one corner of her full mouth quirked up higher than the other. “One of their reporters might have even have actually studied basic _biology_ at some point.”

Tony is looking surprisingly mulish actually. “It’s not proof of us being ‘lovers’ like it claims, but I remember that photo from my birthday and it just proves that you entered my life under false pretences, _Natalie_.”

Natasha is entirely unfazed. “Take it up with Fury, Stark.”

“I have. _Repeatedly._ He still won’t send you back to Russia.”

“I don’t even remember that photo being taken,” Bruce says, gesturing at the one of him and Natasha – next to the ones of her with Clint, Tony and Steve himself. “But, oh well.” He smiles wryly and lifts his umbrella-adorned glass. “To our ‘secret tryst’.”

All of them featured take a drink and everything is fine, right up until Natasha takes _another_ drink and Tony nearly spits his scotch everywhere. (It doesn’t go everywhere, it just goes over Bruce, but he doesn’t notice because he’s looking surprised as well.)

“It’s true?” he asks incredulously and then turns accusing eyes on Clint. “I asked you if you guys had ever been a thing!”

Clint grins. “Not me, bro,” he says and then Steve sighs because this wasn’t how he’d been planning on announcing this…but then he meets Natasha’s overly amused and much more subtly fond gaze and, well, he supposes he should take her being willing to make something public rather than private is a good sign. He takes his second drink and Tony squawks in indignation, but it’s alright because this entire thing was his idea in the first place.

He deserves it.


End file.
